


with the hollyhocks

by colaghostie



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-02-29 22:15:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18787318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colaghostie/pseuds/colaghostie
Summary: kaede needs to spend more time with miu before it’s too late for the both of them.





	with the hollyhocks

**Author's Note:**

> i dedicate this to the kaemiu chat i am in,, love u guys!

Kaede kisses Miu a week after her diagnosis, while the two of them play Super Mario Bros. For the most part, it’s an instinctual accident. She glances over at Miu, whose face is tight with determination, and simply leans over to lock lips. It’s pathetic and desperate, sloppier than she had always imagined it would be. Maybe sloppiness is a result of understanding that you’re racing the clock, an hourglass flipped onto every action you make. She never knew how or when she would’ve made the first move, but she knows now she needs to make it sooner than later. Everything she does every second they’re together means more than the action is worth, whether Miu survives or not.  
But maybe it’s also selfish to treat Miu like a ticking time-bomb, because she’s the first to stop kissing and twist away, looking like Kaede’s just punched her. Her Wii remote dangles from her wrists, and she spits angrily, “What the fuck?”  
And all Kaede can seem to manage out without thinking about how this could all end in five months-- seven if they’re lucky-- is, “I’m sorry.”  
“You don’t need to pity-makeout with me,” Miu says, looking down at her remote. She seems caught between anger and bitterness, torn between crying and punching something.  
“I’m not.”   
“Then what the fuck was that?”  
“I love you,” Kaede blurts, barely able to see Miu’s eyes widen as her vision blurs with unspilled tears. She wills them back; crying now would definitely shatter everything somehow. She knows she’s rushing again, but she’s more afraid of regretting unspoken words than rejection. There’s no shortage of words she wants to shower Miu with, because their whole lives have been intertwined forever, but she can’t put any of them into discernable sentences. ‘I love you’ is as clean as she can get.  
“What?”  
“Yeah.” I do, I do, I do.   
Miu’s face softens until it crumples. Breaks into a pained feature, hard with a sour regret Kaede’s aching with. She doesn’t say anything, doesn’t need to. The two of them have always been on the same wavelength, riding familiar amplitudes only the two of them understand. There’s nothing more that needs to be said as the two of them slip their hands into one another’s, unsure of who initiated the hand-hold first.   
Still, Kaede wants to say it one more time. Wants to repeat it until it’s all her mouth can manage to say. 

Kaede doesn’t know much about chronic lung cancer, or any type of cancer for that matter, but she’s afraid to ask. She decides it’d be best to avoid mentioning it at all, to ignore the elephant in the room. For more her sake than Miu’s.  
But there’s nothing she can do when Miu’s the first to bring it up, while the two of them sway back and forth on park swing sets one gray morning. Their legs are too long for swings meant for kids half their size, so they just stretch their legs out onto the dried up grass.   
“This is bullshit,” Miu says, clearing her throat.  
“What is?” The question earns a reprimanding scowl, and Kaede feels stupid for trying to pretend.   
“I just-- I don’t know. I’m not the nicest person in the world, I guess, but I don’t deserve this.”  
The chains creak under their weight, and Kaede has to reach far to take hold of Miu’s hand. It lies limp in her grip.   
“Imagine if it Kokichi got cancer. Wouldn’t it make a lot more sense than me?”  
Kaede takes time to think about it. Honestly, she doesn’t think so. Kokichi’s style doesn’t fit a tragedy like cancer; a gruesome accident, homicide, something horrifying but not sad, maybe. But not something as slown and increasingly drawn out, something painful to witness. Miu’s right when she says she doesn’t deserve it. She doesn’t. But only someone as good of a person would ever be afflicted with a terminal illness, because the worst things happen to the greatest people.  
“I’ve only smoked, like, twice. Three times if I count elementary. Shuichi smokes ten packs a day, I’ve barely even touched one since freshman year.”  
“Well.”  
“I mean, what do you think?” Miu begins to get jittery from the lack of real response. Her shoes hit the ground and sprays up dirt.  
Kaede looks Miu straight in the eyes, and says quietly, “I think you’re the greatest person who ever lived.”  
Miu fingers squeeze tight around Kaede’s, and Kaede can feel it squeeze with her chest. 

People at school have become weirdly solemn and pitying around Miu, and moreso around Kaede, which feels unfair. Kaede’s not even the one who’s dying.  
The only person Kaede was really concerned about finding out was Kokichi, who she’d expected to start a cruel commotion. Surprisingly, the only thing he’s done since finding out was offer to carry Miu’s books. He’s obviously matured.   
Miu doesn’t trust Kokichi the way Kaede does, though, because she bristles every time the other boy sends a compassionate glance her way. “He’s just making fun of me.”  
Kaede follows her gaze to the small boy, who waves and smiles. “Who, Kokichi?”  
“No, the queen of England.” When Kaede sends Miu a quizzical glance, she snorts and rolls her eyes. “Yes, Kokichi.”  
“He seems fine.”  
“What? Kaede. This is fucking Kokichi. He’s wanted me dead for over a decade.”  
“Stop being paranoid,” Kaede says, trying to place a comforting hand against Miu’s shoulder blades. Her hand is left in midair when the other girl shrugs it off angrily.   
“Paranoid?”  
“He’s grown up, dude.”  
“My fucking ass.”  
“Look, we’re not kids anymore.”  
“It’s fucking Kokichi!” Miu says, loud enough to turn heads. Her face burns red.   
“Are you serious? He hasn’t done anything. For fucks sakes, grow up.”  
She regrets it as soon as the words leave her lips. Miu whirls towards her, hurt, and the hurt twists into an unreadable annoyance. “Screw off,” she snaps and gathers her backpack.  
“Wait.” Kaede’s filled with sudden apprehension; if Miu’s angry at her, she refuses to talk. Every second they don’t speak with one another is a second wasted, a second regretted. She can’t have that on her conscience, especially with such little time left. She tries to hold onto Miu like sand that drips through her fingers. “I’m sorry, really. I didn’t mean it.”  
“Yeah, I’m sure you didn’t.” Miu fixes her windbreaker and turns to Kaede with a sneer. “With me having fucking cancer and all. I don’t have to hang out with you all the time, you know. You’re not my only friend, and I’m not your bitch.”  
Kaede’s left standing alone. 

Kaede was always the patient one. She’s the type of person who waits and waits until everything’s died down before heading back to whatever she’s ran away from. But she can’t afford it anymore, doesn’t want to be so passive all the time, which is why she crawls through Miu’s window and into her bed the next night.  
Miu stirs awake instantly, which Kaede was counting on. She’s drowsy and placid, and doesn’t look as angry as expected when she recognizes Kaede. Just sad, apologetic. She scoots over and lifts her sheets invitingly.  
Maybe it’s the dark of the room, the way Miu’s eyes are half-lidded, the way Miu’s looking up at her like she’s the world, but Kaede’s heart is pounding loud in her ears. And between her legs. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, and Miu nods as she wraps her thin limbs around her neck. “Kokichi made your life miserable, you weren’t being paranoid. You don’t have to trust him-“  
“No. You were right. He hasn’t done anything.”  
Kaede’s confused, feels like crying. “But--“  
“Shh,” Miu cuts her off quietly. She pulls her in closer. “Just kiss me.”  
Kaede’s lips are clammy and numb when it slides into Miu’s, whose breath is a little nappy, but it feels perfect. Better than it always has; warm, familiar, like her whole chest is spilling over into her shoes. It comes to a halting stop when Miu pulls away, which she always seems to do first. Her eyes are dark and shiny and blown wide with an emotion Kaede can’t begin to imagine.  
“I’m going to die,” she says, the quiet of her voice barely beating the sound of wind against the window.  
“Stop saying that.” Kaede tugs at the corner of Miu’s shirt pleasingly. “You don’t know that yet.”  
“I haven’t been getting treated.”  
“What?”  
“We don’t have enough money for the treatment.”  
“You haven’t been getting treatment?” Kaede can physically feel her heart lurch and begin to beat backwards and upside down.   
“My dad lost his job five years ago, along with half our money. Chemotherapy’s just too much money. Our family can’t afford it.”  
“So, what. They’re just going to let you die because it cost too much?”  
“It’s not that--“  
“Because I could pay for it, Miu. I thought you were getting treated this entire time, what the fuck?”  
“I know, I’m sorry.” Miu’s voice breaks slightly, wavering only slightly. Strangely, Kaede ends up being the one crying while Miu holds her like she’s a comforting a fussy baby. “They found it too late, anyways. It had already started spreading.”  
“How much time do you have left?” Sand through her fingers.   
“Two months. Maybe more, maybe less.”  
“I’ll pay for it.”  
“Don’t. You can’t afford it.”  
“How much is it?”  
“Around thirty-thousand for four months, for chemotherapy only. Radiation therapy’s a shit ton too.”  
Kaede doesn’t even bother doing the math; Miu’s always right. All she can do is sob and sweep through her bangs in devastation. She had never known for sure whether Miu was really going to live, was upset knowing she was sick, but it feels like she’s received real, final confirmation that her friend is dying. She can’t even hear herself crying; her brain is being fried from the inside out. Miu brings her back with a soothing kiss. Tethers her back to the earth like she always does. Like she always has.  
“It’s okay,” Miu smiles, her expression the furthest thing from a dying girl. It’s thin and shaky, a dainty porcelain mask. Kaede keeps on weeping. “Kaede, look at me. Kaede. Look. We’ll go up to Kokichi tomorrow and thank him for not being an insufferable asshole, okay? Then we can go on a movie date, or to a cafe. Anywhere you want to go.”  
“What, like we’re girlfriends now?” Kaede hiccups, unable to shut off the faucet in her eyes. She rubs at them without much success.  
“Yeah. Aren’t we?”  
She starts nodding before Miu even finishes her sentence. “Yeah.”  
Pause. “Good.”

Kaede and Miu visit the Oma residence the next afternoon, after school. Miu grumbles and sighs a little too much on the way there, and Kaede’s still in a mindless daze, but she thinks it’s progress. Something resembling closure, with the tiny guy at least. Maybe this is what the two of them need: change. Contrast.  
It takes two and a half minutes for someone to open the door after Kaede rings it the first seven times. Miu’s asking to go before Kokichi swings open the door irritably, fingers crusted with cheeto dust and shirt hanging down at his hip. It’s a gross sight, and Kaede’s worried Miu might say something snippy, but Miu simply cringes and smiles through it. The smile is an uncomfortable baring of teeth and not enough lip, but it suffices.  
“Hey, Kokichi,” Kaede says first, because Kokichi is eyeing the two of them suspiciously. It all feels so grade school, so distantly childish.  
“‘Sup, fags,” he says, and the edge to his tone as compared to the kind one at school is off-putting, enough so that Kaede can feel the air around Miu tighten. Kokichi smirks like the world’s tiniest Disney villain. “What do you douchebags want?”  
“We just.” Kaede’s hand winds up squeezing Miu’s. Hand-holding has somehow become their thing, recently. She likes to think their touches comfort each other. “Wanted to thank you.”  
“For what, assholes? I’m missing out on CSI.”  
“We’re about to tell you,” Miu snips, snippy. She’s always been like that: a little explosive, a little responsive.   
“All you’ve done so far is mash butts with each other, so far on my porch, so.”  
Miu grits her teeth. Another familiar expression Kaede recognizes from their childhood. It’s frustration, vexation, primal annoyance, so pure and raw you can taste the thickness of it all. She’s obviously forgotten about thanking Kokichi, so Kaede quickly spits out, “For being cool at school. About Miu and all.”  
There’s a long pause, and Kaede thinks the worst of it is over until Kokichi laughs and says, “Cool?” in the same way a magician might sweep his cape before revealing a sawed-up woman. “What. You mean about her cancer?”  
“Well, yeah.”  
“That’s cause she’s already fucking dying, Kaede. I mean, look at her. She looks like a dog that knows she’s being put down,” he snorts and motions over at Miu once, who stiffens. All Kaede can seem to do is pale and slacken her jaw and sweaty grip, gaping disbelievingly. That’s not true, she thinks, but can’t seem to get the words past her mind. Miu looks healthy, if not a little bit skinnier than she used to be. She doesn’t look like the sickly people they portray on television. But still, Kaede can’t help but to think about the way Miu had been looking up at her last night. The expression on her face wasn’t exactly acceptance, but nothing close to resilience, either. Was it helplessness? Despair? The face is marred in her head and she can’t remember what it looked like, and looking at Miu’s tightened and pissed off face doesn’t make it easier to imagine. “Look at her! Fucking pathetic, it’s doesn’t feel the same making fun of her anymore.”  
The moment Kaede takes a slight step forward is the moment Kokichi lands hard on the doorstep, Miu following soon afterwards. Kokichi shrieks as Miu grapples furiously at his chest, pulling at the scratchy fabric around the collar and rattling him. Kaede just watches, soaking in the shock of the moment. It all feels so nostalgic, stupidly familiar. He thinks of fifth grade, prepubescent tempers.   
Something like pride wells up in her chest when Miu punches a shoulder and shouts, “Come on, shortass, say it again! Tell me I’m pathetic!” She throws his knuckles into Kokichi’s cheeks about the same time she’s thrown off and elbowed, hard. Kaede has to remind herself that everything isn’t the way she remembers it to be, because Kokichi isn’t a simpering, short little ten-year-old anymore. He’s bigger, heftier, able to really put up a fight. Miu’s a rag doll in comparison. Kaede only lurches from her frozen, awed state when she sees Miu’s head hit the pavement.  
The two of them decide not to go to the movies, thirty minutes later. The left side of Miu’s head is scraped and bleeding slightly, dirt covering her shirt, and Kaede sports forming bruises on her cheek, elbows, and a busted lip. They walk silently back to Kaede’s house (Miu insists, says her house feels like a funeral home), side-by-side, almost no space between their shoulders. The adrenaline has long passed since the brief scuffle, and all that remains is the empty solemness that hits afterwards. Miu huffs, and starts speaking when Kaede turns to her.   
“Thanks for saving my ass,” she says. The two of them awkwardly squeeze past a bench on the sidewalk. “I was really scared you were going to lose to him.”  
Kaede doesn’t know if Kokichi’s retreat is considered a victory. Sure, Kokichi begged mercy first, but there was no more than a scratch on him. Kaede, on the other hand, looks fucked up. She lifts a self-conscious hand to her sore face, wincing as she skims her nails over the sting. Miu reaches to swat it away, looking annoyed.   
“Don’t. You look fine.”  
“Yeah, my ass.”  
“No, I’m serious!” Miu huffs through her nose and swings at Kaede’s thigh. “You look so. Um. Rugged.”  
“Shut up.”  
“Really. You’re like a knight that just fought for my hand in marriage or something.”  
“Your knight,” Kaede smiles, thinking back fondly on their youthful days of fantasy.   
“Princess, actually,” Miu responds snottily. She’s pleased with her own joke for a few moments before sobering back down to solemness. “You know. I still have my outfit from fifth grade. I gave the scepter back to my dad, and the crown has probably gone to shit, but everything else is in my closet.”  
“Me too,” Kaede admits, a little excited to hear she’s not the only one who hoards elementary keepsakes. Her baby piano, Hello Kitty dolls, finger paintings of Miu and her; they’re all hidden somewhere in the depths of her closet. “Look. I’ll show you at home.”  
“I believe you.”  
“No, I mean I want to show you.”  
“Oh.” Miu seems flattered, which is stupid because it’s not like Kaede offered to show her Atlantis. Just silly memoirs.  
“Unless you don’t want to,” Kaede says, half-joking, half-serious.  
“No. I want to see it,” Miu says, and stops walking to yank Kaede backwards. She gathers the thick wool of Kaede’s jacket in her fists and pulls her so close, there’s nowhere left to go. Their noses nearly collide as they begin to kiss, hungrily and promisingly. Still, it doesn’t last long; Kaede yelps and pulls away when Miu bites down on her bust lip. Miu jumps back, too.  
“Oh, shit!” she says, looking panicked. Her fingers hover over Kaede’s, which are gently prodding her lip to check for blood. It’s not bleeding, at least, but it feels like ants are crawling under the skin of her lip.   
“I didn’t know you bit.” Kaede purses his lip experimentally. It stings, and tastes like cold metal.   
“Me neither,” Miu says, teetering between annoyance and guilt. “Shit, sorry.”  
“It’s okay,” she whispers and pulls Miu back in by the belt loops of her jeans. “Look, see? It barely even hurts.” That bit is far from true; she’s acutely aware of the ballooning ball of pain on the right side of her lip.  
“Yeah, right.”  
“Just. Come here.”  
They’re a little more careful and hesitant this time, but the want of it all shadows their caution. Miu kisses slowly, parting her mouth open in invitation, probing Kaede to make a move. The pain in her lip, although still present, is muted by something needy.   
“Does it hurt?” Miu asks against her mouth, her breaths are hot and thick, smelling like snow. Kaede shakes her head. “You’re lying.”  
“Keep kissing me,” Kaede says, and she’s surprised when it sounds whiny. She doesn’t know if she should be embarrassed, but Miu’s looking up at her all flushed and gorgeous so she chooses not to be. She’s really, really pretty, with faint acne scars scattered amongst her skin, discoloration amongst discolorations. She closes back into Miu’s lips, becoming slowly aware of some sensation at the bottom of her stomach. “Jesus, Miu-“  
“Oh, my god,” someone says loudly, and the two of them tear apart for the second time when they see Himiko gawking at them. Miu wipes her lips furiously as if she can erase evidence. “Holy shit.”  
“Kaede!” Miu hisses loudly.   
“What? She didn’t know?”  
“Fuck, no!”  
“You’re gay,” Himiko crows. “I knew it. Oh my god.”  
“Our friends don’t know you’re lesbian?” Kaede asks. They ignore Himiko.   
“No! Yours do?”  
“Yes!“  
“Well, my dear homosexuals,” Himiko says, hands on her hips and cheeky smile on her face. She looks sort of thin and gaunt, a little too tired for an eighteen-year-old. Like she’s missed out on at least a week’s worth of sleep. “Tenko sent me to look for the you, because it’s movie time and she wants Kaede here to be our guest.”  
“Oh, god,” Miu groans. “You can’t say a fucking word about this to her, Himiko. I’m serious. Don’t embarrass me.”  
“It’s fine,” Kaede tries for a smile. “I’m pretty sure I can handle it.”  
“We have to go to my place, anyways,” Miu grits her teeth, clenching her fists. “My mom wants you over for dinner.”

Miu’s right in the sense that her family feels like a funeral. The normally pristine Iruma household looks homely and unkempt, hospital pamphlets and magazines littering the coffee table. Miu puts up the best facade amongst the rest of her family members, somehow cheery and smart-mouthed enough to pass as fine. Miu’s mother is a close second, who does nothing but sit gravely and quietly, which is what she always seems to do when Kaede’s around. Her dad the most shocking of them all, with his usual gelled hair down in untouched curls. His face doesn’t don the usual fussy makeup he loves so much, and a jacket is wrapped around a white sweater and jeans. Kaede’s taken aback by her overwhelmingly natural look; he doesn’t seem like the type of father that’s known for yelling at teachers with faulty grading. He just seems fatigued. Tired and worn-down, barely alive. She decides to never say so, but Kaede thinks he looks almost identical to Miu like this.   
“Oh, hello Kaede,” he greets, pulling her down into a warm hug. “We’re so glad to have you over.”  
“Hi, Mr. Iruma,” Kaede replies, and glances over at Miu, who just watches grimly. Her lips are drawn in a disapproving line.   
“Dad, stop,” Miu says after a few seconds. Her arms are crossed tight over her chest. Kaede frowns at her, but the look goes ignored. “Leave her alone.”  
“It’s okay.” Miu’s father has good hugs, hugs that are welcoming and toasty in a fatherly way. She’s not bothered by them.   
“No,” he pulls herself back anyways, awkwardly wiping at his jacket with his hands before wrapping them around his waist. “She’s right. She… I’m almost done with dinner. Why don’t you go up to Miu’s room, and I’ll call you girls down when it’s ready?”  
“Fine.” Miu’s already dragging Kaede by the wrist to the stairs, guiding her down the hallway like it’s her first time there. It’s hot in a way, the touching and dragging, but leaving her father wringing at himself alone in the doorway dampens the mood considerably. Miu’s door swings shut behind them. “Jesus christ.”  
“He was just saying hi.”  
Miu sends a glare her way and rubs, exasperatedly, at the skin between her brows as she lands on her bed. It’s condescending, and she’s looking at Kaede like she’s an incoherent toddler. “Look,” she says. “I don’t want to think about this, okay?” Kaede must’ve been making a wounded expression, because the sharpness of Miu’s face is suddenly gone, and she just sighs and pats the space next to her. “I’m sorry, just. Come here.”  
Kaede’s ass barely touches the cotton blankets before Miu grabs her face and pulls it toward her, not even taking the time to line their mouths up properly. She clumsily kisses the corner of Kaede’s lips, and doesn’t even try for the same spot again. She trails her kisses to Kaede’s cheekbones, brushes them past her jaw and to her ear. Kaede groans, wants to kiss Miu back, but sits back and allows the other girl to do her work.   
“Miu,” she breathes as something tightens in her abdomen, her chest hitching as Miu climbs on top of her chest, pinning her to the bed. Miu shushes her and makes her way to Kaede’s neck, where she delicately pecks at Kaede’s collarbone. Static shoots through her veins. “Oh, fuck.” She can feel Miu flattening her tongue against the side of her clavicle, sliding it up like paint on a canvas.   
“You’re so wet,” Miu says against the crook of Kaede’s neck, voice so thick she sounds near tears. She lowers her chest so that it lies flat against hers. The warmth and intimacy puts Kaede into a foggy, ecstatic haze.  
“Yeah,” she gasps. “Miu, I--“  
“Shh.” Miu demands, pressing her angular nose so hard into Kaede’s skin, it hurts. She hates it when Kaede babbles. “My family’s downstairs.”  
“I know, I just. I need you forever,” she says, pleasure and emotion riding so high she can’t control the choke in her throat. Miu only presses harder until Kaede can feel wet eyelashes fluttering rapidly, and only then does she realize the other girl is crying. Alarmed, she sits up. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?”  
“I don’t want this to end!” Miu sobs, snaking her arms around Kaede’s torso, latching on like a baby to a mother. The desolate noise brings tears to Kaede’s eyes. “This is all I’ve ever wanted!”  
Kaede hugged Miu back, hot tears rolling down her cheeks. She grasped her tightly, her chest constricting with the sounds of Miu’s sobs. For a while, they held each other like that, both crying and whispering each other’s names over and over again. She hated thinking about when Miu’s time was up and she would have to live without her.   
Dinner was a mess. Her dad kept trying to converse with Kaede but Miu would always stop him before Kaede could respond. The food was great, obviously, but Miu looked weaker and thinner than usual. Kaede kept stealing glances at Miu’s sunken eyelids and face and how the color was drained from her cheeks. She didn’t eat and excused herself early and Kaede left after she finished dinner. She uttered a thank you and shut the front door of the Iruma house gently. 

Miu grew distant. Kaede can’t dissipate her concern as Miu cut off their hangout sessions and refused to see Kaede everytime she called the Iruma household. Miu’s window is latched as well, and the curtains are drawn. Kaede’s usual seat with Miu is always empty, since her dad took her out of school, worried that she would stress herself out more. Prevented from seeing or talking to Miu makes Kaede feel all sorts of numb inside, it made her want to kiss her lips once more or touch her hair again. Everytime she thought of Miu, ghost kisses would line against her neck and brush her lips and Kaede would let the moment linger for a minute, trying to encapsulate the times where they kissed each other softly on warm nights and when they made cupcakes together. Heated moments when Miu would yell Kaede’s name everytime without fail then would whisper I love you’s to each other. Eventually when the moment would pass and the ghost drew away from her lips, Kaede would feel tears running down her cheeks. 

Days and weeks pass by in a blur. Miu was gone, Kaede knew. She would see her sometimes at the grocery store or at the music shop but everytime she saw her in between different intervals Miu looked worse and worse. Half of the times Kaede saw Miu, Miu would lock eyes with her then turn away, thin hair swaying as she exited the store. Kaede was aware of everyday that passed by, every hour and minute where she wasn’t with Miu. Eventually Kaede stopped seeing Miu around in public areas. She would wait by the music store and in the front of the grocery store to at least see those blue eyes once more. Hours would pass and cigarettes were sniffed out but Miu never showed up. Kaede began to stop making the effort to see her as she stomped on her cigarette and made her way back home.   
Summer approached. Kaede cut her hair, a rash but needed decision for herself. School was out, and she was running to the park. Today was a tradition between her and Miu where they would meet at the pond and watch the sun set. As kids, it was to mark the end of school and begin to play all summer long in rivers and arcades but now, it was something more paramount. Kaede ran, her breath clipped and short as her flats hit the pavement rapidly. She leaped over the chain link fence with ease and ran down the dirt hill. Her heart was in her throat as she approached the shimmering pond. She remembers exactly where she threw her pennies in to make a wish with Miu. Miu would always grip her coin tightly and then kiss Kaede on the cheek for good luck before she threw it in. It always landed on a lilypad but Kaede went home that one night and played Fur Elise thinking of Miu.   
Kaede slows down, the bench in vision. Dragonflies flew gracefully near the pond as Kaede sat down on the bench, weary of all the running she just did. A gentle but choppy sigh escaped next to her. Kaede held Miu’s hand gently, as if it were a fragile vase about to break from the slightest wobble. Miu’s short breaths were clipped as she wheezed, struggling to talk. Her eyes were half-lidded and close to falling asleep and her nasal cannulas made her look sickly.   
“I’m sorry,” Miu whispers, a soft sound in the hot, sticky air. Kaede turns her head and sees that Miu is leaning on her shoulder. Barely. Kaede kisses her head, and she hears Miu sniffle. “I’m sorry, Kaede. You don’t deserve this.”   
Kaede shushes her as Miu blinks her tears away. “Don’t worry, Miu,” she utters, her eyes taking in her sallow face and oxygen tank. When did she get so sick?. Kaede’s eyes fluttered. Don’t you dare cry, she warned herself.   
“It was my fault,” Miu whispers, her breaths becoming heavier and shallower. Kaede shushes her again and wipes her tears away. When did her eyes get so grey? Where are the eyes she remembers, full of ignited fury and with a blue tint in them? Its like someone had drained Miu of all the pigment in her body, ridding her of all the pinks and tints in her skin and eyes. What sat next to Kaede reminded her of a porcelain doll, very pretty but no life brought to its figure.   
“Kaede,” she speaks after several minutes of them anticipating, waiting for their annual sunset. “I came here one last time. For you. To be with you.”   
“I know, I-“   
“No, you don’t.” Miu sighs, not exasperated or frustrated; she sounded empty. Tired. “This is the last time I’ll be able to experience this with you.”   
“Don’t say that,” Kaede reaches for Miu but she weakly swats her hand away.   
“Stop, Kaede,” Miu whispers, and Kaede shuts her mouth. “The sun is setting soon.” She looks at Kaede, a glint of hope lining her eyes. “Please watch it with me.”   
They sit on the rusty bench together, the silence between them not awkward or uncomfortable but painfully right. Dragonflies and crickets chirp faintly as they continue to hold one another’s hand. Kaede makes an effort not to look at Miu, to not focus that she’s slowly closing her eyelids or the fact that her hand is slipping from Kaede’s grip. She watches the sun slowly descending west and painting the sky purple and pink. Miu’s breathes on Kaede’s neck, each soon getting shallower and quieter. Kaede’s heart wrenches and her throat feels lodged, but she makes an effort to speak.   
“Miu,” she murmurs, her voice barely audible over the din of insects and birds. The sky was slowly growing pinker and the sun dipped between the mountains, waving its last goodbye. “The sun is setting. It’s saying goodbye.”   
Miu shifts, most likely opening her eyes to look at the shades of crimsons and yellows through the dim sky. Kaede feels her head lie slowly on her shoulder and her hand letting go of Kaede’s. She waits, listening. One breath escapes Miu’s mouth and she closes her eyes. The sun dips fully between the mountains as twilight approaches. Kaede keeps waiting for Miu to wake up or start breathing again, but the awaited breath never comes. Surprisingly, Kaede doesn’t cry. She sighs, a melancholy feeling hanging in the sickly sweet summer air. Instead, Kaede takes out hollyhocks and rhododendrons she handpicked and places them in her hands, making sure that Miu’s gripping them. She slowly stands up and kisses Miu on the forehead then picks up her backpack to leave. She turns back as she heads upwards on the dirt trail and smiles as she sees Miu with her eyes shut and her expression satisfied. Fireflies danced around Miu’s body, illuminating her as Kaede walked away, thinking of what she was going to do for the summer.


End file.
